


Underground Caretaker

by Artorias



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Blood, F/F, F/M, Gore, Medical Procedures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artorias/pseuds/Artorias
Summary: Becoming an underground surgeon for lowlifes wasn't exactly how you expected to life your life, but sometimes all you can do is roll with the flow.Until one day, it becomes VERY personal, with the one person you care about stumbling onto your front door and bleeding out.
Relationships: Akali (League of Legends)/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Voted for at my twitter via a poll.
> 
> Follow me at @artoriaswritess

The pale, moonlit light beckons to you as you stare into the skies above you. Dotted spots of white litter the vast atmosphere around you, constellations you couldn’t be bothered to remember visible to all who are lucky to see them.

You take a sip from your cup, enjoying the weak buzz only cheap liquor can get you. Truthfully, you’re not really sure what the alcohol is, but you couldn’t care less. As long as it could get you drunk, you’ll drink it.

In quiet moments like these, you can’t help but worry for Akali. Her last letter sent to you wasn’t exactly detailed, and she hasn’t been responding to anything else since. Grimacing slightly, you feel a slight burst of pain well in your chest. You pray to whatever lawful deity there is above that she comes home safe and well.

Preparing yourself for another drink, your blissful relaxation time is rudely interrupted by a couple of hard knocks on your front door. Your eyes narrow as you dart to a hidden compartment disguised in your wall, pulling out a simple dagger. Simple, but able to be hidden easily and can slice through flesh like butter.

You put your ears to the door, listening closely for any telltale signs. What you hear however, puts a chill shuddering down your spine. Sputtering gasps and heaving breaths course through the cold night air, immediately figuring out who it is.

Spinning the door open, it reveals a horribly battered and bleeding Akali, who has her hands on a dirty set of rags in a futile attempt to curb the wound from bleeding further. Shit, that’s a deep stab wound...

“I-I messed up…” She whispers, wincing slightly.

You hiss, immediately pulling her in and carrying her bridal style into your house.

“You stupid, stupid, stupid fucking IDIOT!” You harshly whisper, immediately knocking down everything on your large table. Placing her wounded body gently back down, you dig through your cabinet and find your handmade first aid supplies.

You rip off her disgusting bandages, grimacing at the sheer amount of blood pooling. Uncapping some sterile alcohol, you pour it onto a rag and gently dab it onto her wound, eliciting a pained grunt in response. You then finally wrap the bandage around the now still gash.

Picking her back up, you clear out the table hurriedly and carry her to your room, gently laying her down onto your comfortable mattress. Your mind races at a million miles per hour, trying desperately to ignore the blood slowly staining on your hand.

“What the fuck happened to you? Coming onto my doorway bleeding like this, what the fuck?!” You mutter, shaking your head. “Whatever. Don’t care. You stay in this bed or I swear I’ll tie down your arms my fucking self.

“S-Sorry. So… sorry…” She trails off, her eyes closing softly. “Oh god… I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“How the hell should I know? I don’t know the missions you go out on.” You pull out a set of needle and thread, for suturing her wound.

“Heh. I gues- agh!”

“Don’t talk, save your damn breath. I don’t know if you’re bleeding internally, don’t have that kind of equipment here. Shit shit shit!” You mutter angrily, rummaging through your cabinets. You pick up a syringe, triple checking the label to make sure it’s correct. You recognize the design on the sides well.

Tapping the syringe on the tip, you quickly inject it into her arm, flooding her system with several highly advanced nanomachines, which you lovingly refer to as Revive.

...Which is extremely rare and expensive to come by, and you definitely just sapped your last batch. With a tired groan, you lay back on a nearby chair and bury your face into your hands. With a frustrated grunt, you rummage through your nightstand and pick up your burner phone, walking out of the room and dialing a number.

One you really don’t want to dial, but it’s not exactly like you have a choice…

“Shen, you fuck-”

“I know. I know, Y/N, but I need to call in a favor.”

“A favor? Are you fucking serious?! Akali damn near bled out on my dining table, Shen. I had to use the last of my Revive tonic to keep her stable! You promised me she’d be safe, and she came home stabbed in the fucking stomach!”

“I understand, Y/N. But you must understand people in our line of work are liable to be injured at any time. Akali works with us fully knowing of that notion.”

“I...I know. I’m sorry, Shen. Seeing her all banged up like that, it didn’t really set the best taste in my mouth. What’s this favor you’re asking for?”

“I need you to keep her in your apartment for the time being. Our last job was botched- too many idiots of ours tripped the damn alarm. Need to keep the heat off our backs, so Akali needs to lay low.”

“Right. I get it, I can do that. But I wan’t a full reimbursement for my Revive tonic.”

“Of course, you’ll receive compensation within the week. I must go, keep yourself safe, Y/N.”

With a beep, you hang up.

“...Was that Shen?” You hear a meek voice call out, holding their wound with a wince.

With a growl, you stand up and make your way towards her, before being interrupted by a warm set of arms snaking their way around your torso. With a whimper, Akali buries her face into your chest, a slight dampness spreading throughout your shirt.

“I… I was so scared…” She whispers, her grip getting tighter by the second. “I seriously thought I was going to die back there.”

You sigh heavily, slowly reciprocating the hug. “You aren’t. Take that as you will.”

“...I love you.”

“I love you too, you big idiot. Get back in bed, okay?”

“W-Will you stay with me?”

“Will it get you to stay in bed until you get better?”

She nods her head. “Mhm.”

“Good. I’ll fix you up some food and we can talk about what happened. What I need for you is to get some rest, okay?”

“A-Alright… cough,” She groans, holding her wound, already limping to your bed. It takes you all your willpower not to scream in frustration, pure anger coursing through your veins for having to see her in such a sordid state. You’re a surg-, an underground surgeon. You saved lives, though you question whether some of your patients deserved to be saved or not. Shen pays well, though.

But you get used to it. You get used to the blood caking into your fingernails, the dirt and sweat coating your skin like an extra layer of skin. At some point, the sound of a rival gang kicking down doors while you’re trying to sew some poor fuckers wound shut becomes an everyday occurance.

When it comes to Akali, it becomes fucking personal.

…

“What is it, Y/N? This better be important.” A gravelly voice courses from the other line.

“Botched Kinkou operation went wrong tonight. I want details.”

“...It’ll cost you. Nothing in this world comes free, you know that.”

“What do you want, Zed?”

“Some of my boys were roughed up the other day…”

“They’ll be taken care of. Details. Now.”

“Right. Ever heard of the Noxus Syndicate?”

You curse under your breath. Of course this had to become even more personal.

“Noxus? The hell are they doing up and running? Last I heard they got fucked up after their last bout with Crownguard. You’re telling me they’re operational now?”

“Spot on. Nobody knows how they recuperated so damn fast, it’s as if they were all healed overnight. You can rule out your Revive out of the list. I checked myself.”

“Shit… maybe they have something else of their own. This isn’t good, Zed, but that’s besides the point. What was Akali assigned to do?”

“Akali, huh… she was assigned to infiltrate the slums of Zaun as a double agent. Even had some sort of nifty spell to disguise her appearance, real complicated. Not even my best could figure out how it worked. Fat load of good it did her though, evidently.”

“...Fuck. Thanks, Zed.”

You hang up.

You put a hand to your face, exhaling slowly.

“What the fuck do I do…?”


	2. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Violent depictions of gore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuh, itz ya boye. 
> 
> Nothing much to say here. Follow me at @artoriaswritess.

The dim light hums softly above you, occasionally flickering on and off every few minutes. All you can hear are the frightened whimpers of a tied up high-ranked Noxus member. It appears he’s some sort of feline demihuman. It takes all your willpower not to jab a syringe into this fuckers eye, but you somehow suppress it.

  
  


Took a lot of elbow rubbing and cashing in favors with Shen and Zed… but you finally managed to bag a fucker who injured Akali,  _ and _ could give you the answers you need.

  
  


You don your surgical mask and take a deep breath. 

  
  


You turn around slowly, the light of the bulb above glinting off of your glasses. Your array of surgical equipment lays flat on tablecloth next to you. The man eyes the table warily. Seems he isn’t dumb as a brick after all…

  
  


A pity. 

  
  
  


You untie the ballgag keeping his cries into silent whimpers.

  
  


“...A girl you almost murdered barely made it out last night, after her botched mission.” You mutter, eyes cold and stoic. “I’m told you were the one that did it.”

  
  


He spits in your face. “Fuck you, four eyes piece of  _ shit. _ ”

  
  


…

  
  


How rude. However, you don’t let this faze you one bit. All you do is chuckle, reaching for the silver briefcase beside the table. Your prisoner looks confused.

  
  


“Ah, I see you’re curious! That’s good. Very good.” You state simply, entering the 4 digit pin on the lock. “You know, I’m sure you’ve heard the saying. I’m quite certain it’s something that’s been told jokingly to you many times. Am I correct, kitty cat?”

  
  


He growls. “You smug four eyes piece of shit… once I get my fucking hand-”

  
  


You take a scalpel, and drive it into his skull. With a sick squishing of his brain, you rip it out again, before stabbing it into his eye sockets. Sick crunches echo throughout the room. You feel bad for the other gangsters Shen and Zed hired to view the interrogation.

  
  


But you need your answers. Someone almost killed Akali… and for your revenge, you’ll gladly become a madman once more.

  
  


Death rattling echoes in your ear. You chuckle, shaking your head while reaching for the iridescent syringes freshly unlocked from the briefcase. Without even taking time to inspect it, you jam it into his chest. With a sickening sound of skin, organs, and brain matter repairing at the molecular level, he eventually is revived once more. He takes several shuddering gasps, his pupils the size of pinpricks. 

  
  


“R-Renegade! You’re the fucking Renegade Surgeon!”

  
  


You smile. 

  
  


“Indeed I am. I was going to introduce myself… before you rudely interrupted me.” You pull the briefcase off of the table, showing the contents of it. His eyes widen in disbelief. 

  
  


“N-No way! Where the fuck did you get those!” He screams, thrashing in his chair. The securely fastened nails on the bottom prevent him from ever escaping. 

  
  


“Ah, these? Why  _ wouldn’t _ I have them? I am the one who created these, after all.” You say, setting the briefcase down. You stare fondly at the contents.

  
  


9 slots for syringes. 1 down.

  
  


“What was I saying earlier? Oh, right. You know the saying, right? Curiosity killed the cat…”

  
  


With an ominous click of a gun, you pull out a silenced 9mm. A well placed bullet goes through the center of his head, his body instantly going limp. You then unload the entire clip into his torso, leaving a bloody mess that has splashes of blood from the impact of bullets onto your face. 

  
  


Then, you jab a syringe into his chest once more. “...But curiosity brought it back, you piece of fucking  _ trash. _ ” You angrily whisper, tossing the gun to the side. You grab a nearby bucket of ice cold water and splash it onto his face, before jabbing another syringe into his chest. You watch with grim eyes as normally mortally fatal wounds begin miraculously healing once more.

  
  


The dullness in his eyes fade, being replaced with newfound consciousness. “W-What?! Y-You crazy motherfucker, stop it! Oh s-shit, what the fuck is happening to me?” He looks down at his body, horrified upon seeing the immense amount of holes being rapidly closed. 

  
  


You shove the briefcase into his line of sight. “Curiosity killed the cat. But satisfaction brought it back. You have 9 lives, right? Congratulation. you have 7 more. 7 tries to tell me what I need. Do I need to remind you once more what I can do? You think death is an escape? Go ahead. Bite your tongue. Hold your breath. Bash your head onto the floor. I guarantee you…”

  
  


You lean in closely, whispering into his terrified ear. “...not even  _ death _ will grant you the relief you crave for.”

  
  


Hearing his terrified whimpers of pure  _ fear _ brings a grim sense of nostalgia to your heart. You pull out another syringe, swirling with iridescent fluid.

  
  


“You know, these aren’t that all perfected, you know.”

  
  


“W-What?!”

  
  


“These are… prototypes. I never got to finish making the formula, you see. When I was in the middle of finishing the formula, I was raided. By your folks.” 

  
  


“T-Then that’s how we got these things?” He whispered huskily, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. 

  
  


“Why of course. You Noxus  _ dogs _ don’t earn a fucking thing by your own hands. You resort to petty theft and laundering in order to get the shinies you want. And it just so happened you fucking idiots kept dying left and right… to Crownguard  _ and _ Ionia of all people.” You mock, chuckling as you cross your arms.

  
  


“Then, they hired me. Said that I was somebody of no equal. This thing I have here?” You tap the syringe. “This isn’t my specialty. It was the accumulated help of a dozen other members. People whos minds were  _ far _ greater than mine, and their potential even brighter.”

  
  


You spit onto the floor below, grabbing a nearby rag and finally wiping off your face. “Then when we finally proved that it worked… they stuck us in a gas chamber. Said we knew too much- said it was a risk to keep us alive.”

  
  


The lightbulb hums above you.

  
  


“They wanted supersoldiers. People in their ranks that wouldn’t get killed or cut down, no matter how many bullets are shot into their head. No matter how many times their hearts were pierced. They’d always get back up.”

  
  


He doesn’t say anything, still staring warily into your eyes. 

  
  


“But there was an issue.” You sigh. “It’s not unlimited. It only lasts for about… 5 minutes that starts ticking down the moment your body begins to heal itself. But that’s not all…”

  
  


You flash him the tip of the syringe.

  
  


“The more you inject into your body… the more it begins to fail. Sure, you’ll heal… but what happens  _ after _ you go beyond the limit?”

  
  


You chuckle. “Trust me. It’s not clean  _ or _ painless. You’ll start to feel as if your body were expanding, like a balloon. You start to feel your skin slowly crack and rip under the sheer pressure.”

  
  


Licking the tip of the syringe with your tongue, you trail it across his wrists. “And it just so happens that limit is 9.”

  
  


And just like that, he finally cracks. “ALRIGHT, FUCKING STOP!” He whimpers. “I… I’ll fucking talk. God fucking damn it…”

  
  


You smile.

  
  


“Good.”

  
  



End file.
